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“Maybe Devon would like a drink.” A lean guy with dark wavy hair and a Crest Whitestrips smile strolled over.
Medium height. Grandma Anne’s blue eyes and aristocratic features. And Pierson charm.
James.
“What can I get you?” he asked Devon.
“I’d love a Diet Coke.”
“Done. I’m James Pierson, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“And it’s nice to meet you.” He gave her a blatant once-over, followed by a more lingering perusal. He then flashed an approving, if obvious, smile before going in search of the Diet Coke.
Bingo. James wanted to hit on her. What more natural scenario in which to initiate a personal conversation?
Swiftly, Devon scanned the room, her mind racing. She didn’t have much time. People were starting to filter out. Last-minute arrangements were being made. A funeral. A business, sans a CEO. The Piersons had a lot on their plates. Till now, Devon had been a curiosity. Soon she’d become an annoyance. Before that happened, she had to secure more than formal introductions. She had to talk, really talk, to at least one of the Piersons. She’d met nearly all of them. The only ones left were Tiffany and Roger Wallace. And that had to be them, standing in the corner, talking quietly to a child of kindergarten age. Their daughter, Kerri, no doubt.
She’d forfeit meeting them. She had to capitalize on James’s interest in her.
“Subtle, isn’t he?” Cassidy murmured beside her.
Devon turned, grinning at the knowing twinkle in Cassidy’s eyes. “No. But I doubt he has to be. Is he your brother?”
“My cousin.”
“Frederick’s son?”
“No, Niles’s.” Cassidy gestured in Niles’s direction. “Frederick and Emily never had children.”
“Then that branch of the family’s gone.”
A reflective nod. “I hadn’t thought of it that way, but yes. Niles is Grandfather’s eldest now.”
“That must drop the weight of the world on his shoulders.”
“In business, you mean?” Cassidy looked amused. “Niles will carry it well. He thrives under pressure. Then again, I doubt he’ll get involved in the food-services division. He’s a fine-dining guy all the way. Plus, with James’s equestrian competitions, he’s on overload already.”
“Did I hear my name?” James asked, walking back over and handing Devon a crystal glass.
“Don’t you always?” Cassidy replied good-naturedly. “I was just telling Devon how busy your father is, between Pierson & Company and your riding.”
“Yeah, that’s Dad. Always on the go.”
Devon sipped at her drink, eyeing James as she did. “Cassidy mentioned equestrian competitions. What kind and where?”
“Show jumping. And wherever they’ll have me.”
“Ah, that’s my cue.” Cassidy gave a mock sigh. “James pretends to be modest—which is far from the truth—so I’ll toot his horn and make him sound more impressive. He’s competed at major events everywhere, including Calgary and Toronto this past fall. Right now, he’s competing at the Winter Equestrian Festival in Wellington. He came in second at today’s Grand Prix. We’re all sure that he and Stolen Thunder are on their way to the World Games in Aachen, and from there to Olympic Gold in Beijing.”
“The Olympics? That is impressive.” Devon’s brows rose.
“You’re right. It does sound better coming from you,” James informed his cousin. “Let’s hope your predictions come true.”
“Are you kidding? Grandfather wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“So you don’t work at Pierson & Company?” Devon asked, feigning ignorance.
